


McHanzo Sounds Like an Item off the Dollar Menu at McDonalds

by Jotaritos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caretaking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hangover, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-02-28 05:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13265109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jotaritos/pseuds/Jotaritos
Summary: McCree walks in a bar intended as a celebration but slowly grows lonely over his long ass visit. Hanzo takes him home, McCree is confused and hungover but grows closer to Hanzo as McCree is nursed from his hangover. What happens next is a relationship of heart-warming events, arguments, a whole lotta patience for each other, and happy endings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I haven't written fanfic in a long time but when I started playing Overwatch about a year ago I absolutely fell in love with the ship. This has been a WIP for a while (about a year and I'm still using this title lmao) and I hope you like the way it starts out. Please enjoy!

The day went along like any other for Jesse McCree. Training new recruits, planning the next mission, polishing his spurs, rinse, and repeat. One would think with the particular look he had scorned on his face that the day was quite rough on him. The truth was far from it. What few recruits were brave enough to go through Overwatch’s training regime after dealing with Reyes’s harsh introduction grew quite fond of McCree. From the way he says weird things like “howdy” and “y’ain’t”, to the way his spurs clunk as he walks across the floor. His underlings especially liked his gentle smile. There was something alluring about him. As for planning the next mission, Blackwatch has the easy end of the stick. They just have to push enemy lines from behind. As for his spurs, clean as a whistle. They were his pride and joy. He couldn’t just not let them be clean.

After all the excitement today, this called for a celebration. McCree headed down to the local bar. He sat down in his favorite stool, waved over the bartender, and ordered his favorite drink. Whiskey.

“Oh, a good day today, huh?” she asked.

“You bet, now don’t go puttin’ that bottle away just yet. You’d be wrong if you’d think I’m not finishin’ it” he replied.

“I would tell you to save some for the other customers,” the bartender joked, passing Jesse a single shot glass and a bottle of liquor, “buuuut you are the only one to drink straight-up whisky around here”.

“Thank ya’ kindly,” the cowboy said with that gentle smile of his.

The bartender left to leave the man with his alcohol. Shot after shot, McCree was enjoying his celebration. How hard he worked with his recruits, how he went on mission after mission supporting Blackwatch, the man’s heart swelled with accomplishments. Jesse McCree seemed to have everything. Well, almost everything. While he had respect, admiration from his peers, a roof over his head, and the title of “war hero” under his belt, a sudden feeling of loneliness kicked in.

It wasn’t that McCree couldn’t get a significant other. Quite the opposite. He had enough charm in his hat and a gleam in his smile to win anyone over. Gents, ladies, it didn’t matter to McCree. He was picky about who to date. More picky than most. He wanted someone rough enough to handle him. He knew his lifestyle was fickle. One day he would be there the next he would be on a mission halfway across the globe for two weeks. He needed someone able enough to command the situation and demand attention to their relationship. He needed someone rough, yet kind enough to invigorate the cowboy’s heart.

“You ok, hun?” the bartender asked McCree, breaking his loneliness for a moment.

“Ok as I’ll be for right now,” McCree said into his whiskey. He sulked as he poured another drink into his glass. 

The bartender gave him a worried look, then decided some people have their own problems. She was didn’t have the time to deal with his issues as people were ordering drinks from her left and right. Had he come any other day and she would have loved to help him.

Jesse McCree originally started drinking as a celebration. But as the night grew older, so did his feelings for a partner deepen. People left the bar bit by bit until he and the bartender were left. Empty whisky bottle in front of him, McCree truly started to feel true pain. Countless people asked him on dates. New recruits, older folks at overwatch, but the lonesome man didn’t want a relationship with any of those people. His heart grew cold. He took a swig of his last glass of whiskey, and decided to head home.

“See ya later,” he told the bartender. 

At 2am and well past closing time, the bartender said nothing for a moment.. She saw McCree’s eyes go from blazing with confidence to empty and soulless. She was just as exhausted as him at this point. She saw McCree stumble out of his chair. “Be careful now, hun,” she stated as though she were an exhausted mother. “We’re in a safe neighborhood but you still had a little too much to drink last night”.

“I’ll be fine,” the cowboy said as he fronted the bartender for the bottle of alcohol and tipped her generously for her polite conversation.

McCree tripped out the door. Before the bartender could give him a final “are you sure?”, he was gone.

Now outside, McCree realized how horrible his spur of the moment depression drinking was. But he was alone. He had friends, but he had no other best friend like alcohol. Sure Genji and Gabe were there for him, but they had their own issues they needed to have sorted out. Gabe started acting weird since his special medical therapy, and Genji was never the talker. He needed a friend, and nothing said friend and repressing emotions so I can get the job done like whiskey.

McCree looked up at the moon. He thought about how beautiful it was despite the full moon just passing. In the midst of his admiration, the cowboy brushed against someone walking in the opposite direction of him. McCree twisted his ankle and grabbed onto the stranger. McCree fell to the floor. The stranger tried to stop them both from falling. The stranger only managed to grab onto McCree’s arm, but made no real success in stopping him from falling to the ground.  
“Are you alright?” the stranger asked. He asked in a firm voice as if he was asking because he had to, not because he cared.

McCree took a few seconds. He hadn’t even realized he fell. McCree looked up at the stranger. McCree couldn’t get a good look at his features, but he did notice the moon made the stranger’s silhouette light up. It took him a few seconds, but McCree realized this stranger was a man--and a handsome one at that. The stranger was of Asian descent, McCree didn’t know specifically where but he did notice his brown eyes. He looked to be in his late 30s. He had something on his back, but McCree couldn’t tell what it was.

McCree realized an awfully long time had passed with an awfully long awkward silence. “I-I need…….. S-some help,” McCree finally replied.

The stranger let out a deep sigh, squoze his eyes tightly as if to express disappointment, crouched down next to McCree, then wrapped McCree’s arm around his shoulder. “I will help you, but just this once,” the stranger said. McCree had no idea where he was going. To him, it didn’t matter. He was finally not alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree is hungover in a strange place and stuck with his thoughts. When he decides to leave his room, he sees the mystery man from last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I've had to do a lot of academic writing for school. I'm working on chapter 3 and hope to have it out soon.

McCree woke up. His head was throbbing. He completely forgot what happened last night. He remembers hitting the ground and… seeing someone? He couldn’t remember all the details. McCree was focused on how bad his head hurt. The single beam of light coming directly through the curtains just to the left of him didn’t help him at all either.

Some Part of Jesse realized he was not in his usual room in Overwatch headquarters, but he was more focused on his utter pain. McCree inhaled deeply. “Deep breaths and this will all be over soon,” he thought. He smelled Pine-Sol. The deep-clean kinda Pine-Sol that smelled like lemon but the “pine” part of Pine-Sol overcomes the lemon so the result is weird-dollar-store-car-air-freshener. Whoever he was with must had been peculiar about cleaning their house.

McCree finally mustered up enough strength to sit up. God what a mistake that was. His head hurt even worse now. He reached up with his right hand to massage his temple. He felt gauze and medical tape covering a wound. McCree tried to remember what happened last night, but that just made his headache even worse. He tried to assess the situation.

“So I don’t know where I am,” he thought, “I ain’t kidnapped and I ain’t home”. McCree thought for a minute, remembered how much whiskey he had, then assumed the worst. “Lord help whoever had to deal with my drunken ass last night,” he thought, “But who took me home? A hooker? Maybe, but then again…”. McCree had a general disposition about paying people for sexual favors. He quickly thought about the bar. “Was it the bartender? Maybe, but she was nice. No real spark of attraction there”.

McCree’s thoughts were rudely interrupted by a throb of pain. He needed medicine. He kicked his legs off the side of the bed and stood up.

Yet another mistake.

McCree’s head pounded, and the large burly cowboy man fell, filling the house with a hefty thud.

“Well, fuck” the cowboy muttered. He just laid there. Head throbbing from pain. He closed his eyes for a moment. He thought, just for a moment, about what he did to deserve this. He already had his left hand and forearm taken from him on a Blackwatch mission. He flicked through his album of memories. Was it that time Reyes killed a man in Rialto? Was it the time he light heartedly picked on Torb for his crab arm? Was it the time he stole all of Reyes’s pens for April Fools? Or how about that time when-

His thought ended when the door opened and a piercing light shown through the wide open door. McCree squinted his eyes to see who was there. All he could see was a shadowy figure of a man. The man sighed heavily. The stranger grabbed McCree’s arm and wrapped it around his shoulder. “Get up,” the stranger said in a hush tone. McCree did as well as he could. Legs still like jelly from last night, McCree struggled to stand up. But the stranger just five inches shorter than McCree made a stable support to help McCree make his way into the bed. McCree’s eyes came more adjusted to the light. The room itself was black? Maybe it was navy blue and an assortment of blues. McCree was more focused on the man assisting him and was never too good at identifying different darker shades of blue from black in the first place. He got a better look at the facial features of the man. He had a beard and mustache. Both were well groomed and didn’t wash out the stranger’s facial features, but instead enhanced his natural sharp jawline. McCree could also make out a… ponytail? Or an undercut? He couldn’t quite make out the color of his eyes, but he noticed his eyes were filled with some kind of emotion. It wasn’t a joyful look. It looked like some kind of sorrow, but not the kind of sorrow from some deep emotional trauma. This was the kind of sorrow felt when regret happens and one’s life can be felt slipping by because of that one fatal mistake. The kind of sorrow where melancholy meets despair. McCree didn’t know how this man felt this way, but he felt sorry for the man.

After lifting McCree in bed, the stranger opened a drawer. He opened a bottle of… something, McCree couldn’t make out the label, and put two pills in his left hand. He closed the bottle and put it back in the drawer then pulled out a bottle of water. He put both on the table next to McCree’s temporary bed. The man started to head toward the light the open door left. As soon as the man was about to leave, McCree remembered to ask an important question.

“Hey,” said McCree. The man stopped moving and turned back. “Last night did we uhh… ya’ know?” McCree asked.

The man let out a heavy sigh and bowed his head a little. “No, absolutely not.” the stranger replied.

“Not sayin’ I wouldn’t mind it’s jus-” McCree started before he was rudely interrupted.

“You have four hours before my kindness expires,” the stranger said. His irritable tone was easily recognized by McCree. He heard it several times from Reyes and Morrison. “Open the curtains when you need light” the stranger bitterly said as he shut the door behind himself.

McCree was baffled by the man’s behavior. McCree was baffled by the man’s rude behavior when this stranger allowed him into his home. McCree didn’t have much time to think before his headache came back. He sat back up, successfully this time. He opened the water bottle, put the pills in his mouth, and took a swig of water from the bottle. He closed the bottle, put it back on the table, then laid back down. McCree still had no recollection of what happened last night. He remembered the bar and the whiskey but what else was there? Why was this man being so nice to him, especially if they didn’t make love?

McCree’s head still hurt. It hurt from dehydration and it hurt from his own thoughts. Four hours was a decent amount of time to gain his bearings of the area, but it wasn’t enough for him to recover and leave wherever he was for home. He closed his eyes. He took in a deep breath-taking in the scent of the room and his whiskey stained clothes from last night, held it for a moment, then slowly exhaled. Inhale, hold, exhale. His eyes slowly opened. He slowly rose from the bed. He took a moment. His head was still hurting, but he had to go. He drank some more water. He kicked his legs off the side of the bed, then finally got up. He opened the curtains only a little to see where the door was. Jesse badly wanted a shower to get last night’s stench off of him, but he had no fresh clothes. Instead he hobbled to the door he saw the kind stranger enter from and turn the knob.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but Jesse saw a somewhat stylish apartment room before his eyes. He noticed the cream walls served as a nice background for an array of house plants-most notably succulents with a few hanging spider plants-and complemented the greens well. In front of him was a glass table and a large window with the curtains drawn. As he walked out of the room, he noticed the open area kitchen to the right. The mysterious man was sitting there drinking something from a mug with a book in his hand. He heard Jessee’s footsteps and looked up. Jesse awkwardly made eye contact with the man, not knowing what to say. This man was beautiful. He had an interesting type of undercut where the rest grew long long. He currently had it tied neatly in a bun with his bang sticking out. His face was framed nicely with a well trimmed beard. His eyeliner was sharp enough to kill anyone with his sharp looks.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope to have chapter two out soon.


End file.
